


Pas de Deux

by rosetintedlenses (VOlympianlove), VOlympianlove



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet, Ballet Dancer Wu Yifan, Ballet Dancer Zhang Yixing, Coming In Pants, Eventual Romance, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22937551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VOlympianlove/pseuds/rosetintedlenses, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VOlympianlove/pseuds/VOlympianlove
Summary: Yixing was brilliant from the moment he met him and Yifan was drawn in at once, like a moth to a flame.
Relationships: Wu Yi Fan | Kris/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Pas de Deux

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OnyxYAO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxYAO/gifts).



> Thank you to @ZeitDieb for commissioning this piece! I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it is what you pictured in your mind! If you want to commission a piece from me, please check out the notes at the end of this fic!

The first thing Yifan noticed about him was his posture. 

He was the first one in the studio, doing a perfect plié at the barre. 

Dressed in a fitted white shirt, Yifan could not tear his eyes away from how the dancer’s muscles rippled as he straightened out of the bend, returning to a neutral position.

His dark curls hung in his eyes as he turned, pretty brown eyes flickering with surprise when they registered Yifan standing by the door, dance bag in hand.

Yifan nodded at him, trying to pretend like he had not been staring for the last few seconds. 

The dancer smiled, a dimple flashing in his cheek.

It would be rude to go to the barre far far away from him so Yifan set himself up behind him, in his favourite spot near the back.

Being obnoxiously tall, he hated to be in the front, where he would likely block everyone behind him. Having everyone’s eyes on him was also extremely discomfiting.

“Morning,” the dancer murmured as he passed him to get to the back and Yifan said it back.

His eyes flicked down the man’s figure and he could have sworn the man preened a little, his back arching the tiniest bit.

Yifan kept his eyes to himself as much as he could as he stretched, the doors opening for more students to filter in, chattering far too loudly for the hour.

Throughout the entire class, Yifan could not help but notice many eyes flitting their way, blatantly staring. He could understand their awe, as the dancer before him had one of the most perfect form he had ever seen.

His waist was tiny and his tight little shorts rode up whenever he did an attitude, his leg lifted behind him.

Yifan swallowed, ducking his head when the ballet master passed, narrowing his eyes at his passé.

“Straighter, Yifan. Your height is your advantage. Use it,” he said sharply before moving along.

Yifan caught the other dancer’s sympathetic smile through the mirror as they went on with class, his tiny head jerk alerting Yifan to his own faltering posture.

He straightened, giving the other man a grateful smile.

When the bell rang, the other dancers rushed out of the room, eager to get to the lunchroom, Yifan found himself alone in the corridor, heading slowly to his favourite studio of the academy, Macmillan Studio, named after the choreographer himself.

He had a rehearsal for the company’s newest ballet, the Sleeping Beauty. It was a revival, with new steps to learn and new partners to work with.

Yifan was excited to learn who his partner would be, as it would be his very first pas de deux rehearsal for the show.

He shook himself as he walked into the studio, relishing in the natural light spilling in from the studio’s skylights, setting his bag at the front of the room.

“Morning, Yifan! How was class?” Jungsu, the ballet master in charge of the Sleeping Beauty hurried into the room, hair askew. 

He dropped his bag onto the floor with a bang that made Yifan wince, the door of the studio opening to reveal Ryeowook, the pianist behind him.

“Great. Worked all the kinks out of my back,” Yifan answered, slipping on his shoes. He stretched, watching Jungsu communicate in rapid Korean to Ryeowook, who nodded at every third word and looked as if he might roll his eyes.

“Now! Where’s your partner?” Jungsu whirled around, his loose shirt swirling. He was the peak of gracefulness, even with his hair mussed in every direction.

Yifan aspired to reach his level, where everything he did would look as fluid as water, so purposeful as if he was dancing through his life.

He supposed the dancer who had been in class with him earlier had already arrived there.

“I don’t know, hyung. I haven’t been briefed on my pas de deux at all.”

Jungsu blinked and aahed.

“Right. That wasn’t you. I briefed Sehunnie. Okay.”

He ruffled around in his bag and pulled out a large binder that did not look like it could have fit in his bag.

Yifan folded his leg close to him, squaring his hips as Jungsu flipped through the binder.

“Ah yes. For this year’s Sleeping Beauty, we are being sponsored by the LGBTQ+ council so there will be some changes to the castings. Your partner for this show will be-.” 

Before Jungsu could finish, the door to the studio creaked open and Yifan’s heart leapt when he saw a familiar face peek in, sheepish.

“Sorry I’m late,” he bowed, hurrying into the room.

“Ah! Yixing! We were just beginning!” Jungsu’s face lit up and he set down his binder. He gestured to Yixing as if Yifan had not seen him. “This is Zhang Yixing, our resident prodigy!”

Yifan’s heart melted when a pretty pink flush covered Yixing’s cheeks, all the way up to his ears.

“Not a prodigy, hyung,” he murmured, settling down onto the floor next to Yifan.

“Hi,” Yifan said, extending his hand. Yixing grabbed it and Yifan could not help but notice how slender his fingers were. They were so delicate compared to his almost brutishly bigger hand.

“Yixing, this is Yifan. He’s one of our danseurs if you have not seen his shows. One of our leading dancers.” 

“I have,” Yixing said softly, his eyes locked onto Yifan’s. He still had not let go of his hand. “He was the most wonderful Nutcracker last year. I got back from London just in time to watch it.”

“Well, now that you know each other,” Jungsu moved on, unaware that Yifan’s mind was spinning. The beautiful prodigy dancer had seen his work? 

“Yifan, Yixing will be playing Princess Aurora for this showing but because of changes to the script, the role is now called Prince Aurelius. The partnering is almost exactly step for step like the original but with a male cast, you will need to be a lot more aware of weight distribution.”

“I’m not sure I’ll have a problem with that,” Yifan answered, casting a glance over Yixing’s lithe body.

Yixing smiled back, almost a little coy.

“I certainly don’t.”

Jungsu looked up from his binder at the both of them.

“Great. Then we shall begin.”

Lifting a male partner instead of a female partner turned out to be slightly trickier than Yifan had expected, even one as lithe as Yixing.

The ballerino was one of the most graceful dancers Yifan had ever met, with extraordinary stamina. He corrected Yifan easily, slipping out of his shy shell to point out his mistakes when Yifan made them.

Any dancer would be offended if a fellow dancer criticized them but Yixing was so gentle and sweet with his corrections that Yifan accepted them easily.

“Shall we try it through then?” Jungsu asked after a half-hour of working through the ground steps.

Yixing nodded, smiling as he swept his sweat-damp hair away from his face.

His cheeks were flushed as he ran a tongue over his lower lip, moistening it. The look in his eyes turned coy as he stood in his starting position, Ryeowook striking up the opening strains of the music.

Yifan tried hard to dive deep into his role as the tortured Prince Désiré, trying to convey his yearning in the middle of the Forest.

Yixing joined him soon after, his fingertips hot as they ran over his skin, twisting and turning and bending around him.

It was not hard to pretend he was longing for Yixing, not when the other was wrapped up in the role, his brilliance shining through as he danced.

Yifan’s eyes burned as he followed Yixing’s steps, his tiny ballet shorts riding up during his leg lifts and arabesques. His heart pounding in his chest did not feel so much like it was from dancing when he wrapped a hand around Yixing’s waist.

Yixing’s skin was warm through the thin fabric of his shirt and the dampness was distracting as he moved, Yixing performing a flawless passé.

He barely had time to process the fact that Yixing was wearing pointe shoes before the man was rising onto his toes, doing a lovely pirouette before bending over backwards.

Yifan could see the fabric of his shirt clinging to his chest when he arched back before returning, eyes glittering.

“Perfect, perfect! Now Yixing, if you could just look into his eyes a little longer- let’s start from the passé again!”

Jungsu clapped his hands and Yifan snapped out of his daze, releasing Yixing to return to his position.

It was a long and gruelling rehearsal, made even worse for Yifan because Yixing was constantly lifting his muscled legs, stretching.

His ass looked amazing in those ballet shorts and Yifan had an almost uncontrollable urge to just grab him in the middle of rehearsal and press him up against the mirror.

Alas, he barely knew the man.

They were both exhausted by the time rehearsal was over, Yifan practically collapsing onto the floor beside his bag.

“You did well,” Yixing murmured, poking at his leg with his toes.

His shoes were worn around the tips, the ribbons fluttering as he sat down beside Yifan.

Almost too close.

Yifan could feel his body radiating heat as he bent over to untie his shoes.

“Don’t they hurt?” he blurted, staring as Yixing pulled off his toe pads and bandages.

Yixing tilted his head, a soft smile on his lips.

“They do. But beauty is pain, no?” 

He folded up the ribbons, tucking them into the shoes and stood up, offering Yifan his hand.

“Shall we go and get some food?”

Yifan accepted the hand gratefully, following behind as Yixing bid both Ryeowook and Jungsu goodbye, his dance bag swinging from his shoulder.

-

“You’re partnered with _the_ Zhang Yixing?” Luhan gaped at him the next morning while they were at warm-ups.

Yifan raised his eyebrows, bending forward into his stretch. His calf muscles twinged nicely and he groaned, leaning out as far as he could go.

“Is he famous?” he replied, touching the tips of his toes.

He smiled to himself, Luhan’s incredulity rolling off him in waves.

“If you would take your head out of your dancing to pay attention, you would know that he is one of the most famous dancers in this academy!”

“Who are we talking about?” Jongdae appeared in Yifan’s other side, plopping down with his black ballet flats in hand.

“Zhang Yixing,” Luhan said, rolling his shoulders. He had a roller beneath his hip, trying to loosen his muscles before class.

Yifan watched as Jongdae’s eyes widened.

“Is he in this class?” Jongdae licked his lips and Yifan shoved him hard.

“Ow, you don’t understand, Yifan hyung! He’s known as one of the most provocative dancers in the academy! They gave him so many of the traditionally female roles because he’s so versatile! I heard that just watching him could get you hard.”

“Which would be extremely embarrassing so shall we not talk about that?” Yifan muttered, eyeing their skin-tight tights.

They all wore them and to be honest, it was rare to see any male dancer in the academy choose the shorts over the tights.

He supposed Yixing was the exception.

The door opened just as the ballet mistress was about to begin class, a slender figure sneaking into the studio as quiet as a mouse.

“Psst.” Yifan narrowed his eyes when Jongdae jabbed him from the side, jerking his chin frantically in the direction of the latecomer.

He looked to see Yixing in his tiny ballet shorts, his hair fluffed up all around his head standing before the ballet mistress, apologizing.

With a haughty sniff, the woman sent Yixing to his place.

An empty spot right in front of Yifan on the barre.

Yifan cursed internally when Jongdae’s dirty words echoed in his mind and he had to make a point to keep his eyes on Yixing’s back and not the plump tight ass barely covered in black Lycra fabric.

“You so were staring the entire class,” Jongdae snorted as they left the studio, the three of them all sweaty and smelly from class.

Yixing had shot Yifan a smile and Yifan was powerless to reject when he asked if he wanted to have lunch together with his friends.

He had gone ahead to collect his friends and that left Yifan with ample time to collect himself and hopefully sit down to lunch with something other than Yixing’s ass in his mind.

“Do you think he has a thing for you? I heard that he never eats with anyone other than his friends.”

“We’re partners, Luhan. If we want the show to be believable, we have to at least be friends,” Yifan replied, distracted by Yixing’s appearance into the dining hall.

He was sitting with two other guys that Yifan recognized from other classes, their trays loaded with salads and heavy protein shakes.

“Hi!” Yixing waved shyly, tugging a chair next to him. He patted it, gesturing for the others to sit in the other seats.

Yifan sat cautiously, almost hyper-aware of all the glances thrown his way. He stayed extremely low key most of the time and having people in the cafeteria staring at him was a less than ideal situation.

But Yixing did not seem too bothered, dimpling sweetly at Jongdae and Luhan, whose jaws seemed to have unhinged.

Yifan whacked Jongdae on the arm as he passed him, drawing a yelp from his friend.

Jongdae shot him a wounded look before immediately turning his charm onto Yixing’s friend.

“Hi, I’m Jongdae. You’re Baekhyun right? Last season’s Sugarplum prince?”

To Yifan’s surprise and mild disgust, Baekhyun’s cheeks went red and he leaned into the other man on his left as if to hide his face.

“Yep,” he squeaked, “and you were supposed to be the Sugarplum prince.”

Jongdae shrugged, grinning.

“It’s fine. I went to see it. You were amazing.”

Baekhyun ducked his head shyly.

“Thank you.”

The other man nudged Baekhyun affectionately, smiling at Jongdae.

“Junmyeon,” he said, holding out his hand. 

Yifan had never seen Jongdae flustered before when he shook Junmyeon’s hand, eyes flitting between Junmyeon and Baekhyun.

It made a rather strange sight, Baekhyun seated almost entirely in Junmyeon’s lap but Junmyeon flirting readily with Jongdae.

Yifan found the sight so fascinating that he almost forgot about his own food until Yixing nudged him, smiling.

“They’ve been looking for a third,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“And you’ve never offered?” Yifan asked, smirking when Yixing’s cheeks flushed and he looked away.

“I’ve been busy,” he muttered, poking at his salad.

“Busy with your shows?” Yifan asked, curious. They all had a set number of shows given to them, if they won the lead roles and from what he had heard, Yixing was in quite a number of roles.

“Learning Sleeping Beauty, mostly,” Yixing admitted, lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “The woman’s part is trickier than I’m used to.” It was almost endearing how sheepish he was.

“You’ll get it eventually. You’re Zhang Yixing after all,” Yifan said offhandedly.

Yixing blushed, prodding at his limp lettuce with a flustered smile.

Their group got on amazingly together, to Yifan’s relief and it became easier to ignore the looks from others.

Yixing was a wonderful partner, full of insight and experience.

“I’ve always wanted to dance,” he confessed one afternoon when they were finished with rehearsal.

Yifan had chosen to eat outside the academy for once, at a quaint little café on the street corner, away from the coffee starved crowds.

The evening sunlight filtering in from the large windows bathed Yixing in a lovely golden glow that made Yifan itch to snap a photo.

“Really? When did you start?” Yifan asked, nodding at the waitress when she dropped off their drinks.

“When I was three. Mother put me in classes and I loved them. Never stopped since. You?”

Yifan shrugged.

“My mom took me to a showing of the Nutcracker. I wanted to _be_ the Nutcracker. So I begged to be put into class.”

He smiled at the memory.

“My dad wasn’t so happy about that. They had a big fight before he left.”

Yixing’s smile was sympathetic as he patted his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured and Yifan shrugged.

“What for? I’m better off without him.”

“Still.”

Yixing’s eyes were kind and the golden light reflecting off his warm brown eyes made Yifan’s heart trip. He looked away, forcing the strange feelings welling up in his chest back down. 

“It’s been a long time since I saw him,” he admitted, allowing Yixing to trace circles over the back of his hand. “Sometimes I still wonder if he saw me dance now, would he be disgusted or proud? It’s stupid, I know.”

“No, it isn’t,” Yixing said, tightening his grip around Yifan’s hand. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time, Yifan.”

Yifan ducked his head when Yixing stroked over his knuckles, gentle like he always was. 

“It’s alright to crave his approval, even though he left you. He’s your father. It’s normal.”

“He’s a shit dad, that’s for sure.”

“Yes, he is,” Yixing said, “anyone who would leave you behind is an idiot. You’re a gem, Yifan. I hope you see that.”

-

When Yixing asked him to practice privately together, Yifan thought he would have a lot more self control now that they were decently close friends.

But it was taking an exceptional chunk of his self-control to keep from pinning Yixing against the barre and taking him right then and there.

Somehow, Yixing had managed to procure ballet shorts even shorter and tighter than what he usually wore, his bulge outlined clearly in his front as he stretched, flashing Yifan a brilliant smile when he entered.

Yifan swallowed, forcing his eyes up to meet Yixing’s. He lifted his hand up in a wave, dropping his bag down to put on his shoes. 

“Ah, I forgot to sew my shoes.” Yixing flopped down onto the floor next to him, reaching over to pull his bag out of the corner. He dumped out a pair of nude pointe shoes, a roll of satin ribbon, elastics and scissors. 

Yifan watched in fascination as he stretched.

“Have you never seen the girls do this?” Yixing asked conversationally as Yifan squared his hips against the floor in a split, eyes glued to Yixing’s quick hands as he bent the shoes practically in half, the sound of the shank breaking echoing in the quiet room.

“I have but it always fascinates me how every dancer prepares the shoes,” Yifan answered, coming out of the split. He pulled his legs close to him, folding down to the floor. His hips twinged and he winced a little at the stretch.

Yixing smiled, shaking his head.

“My mom taught me how to sew my shoes. We had to order them extra hard because I weigh more than the girls do.” 

He banged the tips of the shoes against the hardwood floor as if in emphasis and laughed when Yifan cringed at the sound.

“Is that where all the dents in the walls come from?” Yifan teased as Yixing threaded a long curved darning needle with white thread. “From pointe shoe users banging them on the walls?”

Yixing giggled and Yifan melted at the sound. It was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

“Possibly. I know a lot of girls bang their shoes. I just darn them. It’s a lot easier and less damage done to the studio walls.”

He knotted his thread, holding his shoe up so that Yifan could see the ring of white stitches sewn neatly around the toe. 

“Haven’t you ever thought of going on pointe, Yifan. With those legs, you could do well.” Yifan rolled his eyes at Yixing’s sly smile, nudging him before folding one leg in, extending the other. 

His heart skipped a beat when Yixing moved to mirror him, the hem of his shorts rising a little higher up to expose more skin. 

Mouth suddenly dry, Yifan swallowed, suddenly very aware of their proximity as he bent, curling fingers around the base of his feet to stretch his quads.base of his feet to stretch his quads.base of his feet to stretch his quads.

“It would take Mom five minutes to sew my shoes. When I did them myself, I’d take hours. I had to sew my shoes every time I got them just so I could get to class on time and not spend the entire time sewing shoes,” Yixing commented as he folded and cut his ribbons.

Heat spread through Yifan when he caught a glance of the nude coloured ribbons draped over Yixing’s delicate wrists as he sewed.

He could almost see them wrapped even tighter around that pale skin, pulled tight as Yixing heaved and moan-.

“Yifan?” 

Yifan bit down hard on his lip, pushing the dirty thoughts out of his mind when Yixing called his name.

“Right here,” he answered with a sheepish grin, shifting to hide the hard-on that his thoughts had caused.

Yixing raised his eyebrows and rose, his shoes fastened onto his feet.

“Let’s get to it then.”

If Yifan thought the ribbons and the shorts were the worst, he had not seen Yixing at his peak quite yet.

He was worn out after two hours, lingering on the side to watch Yixing practice his parts, in particular, the Rose Adagio.

It was a complicated dance involving him balancing on one foot on pointe while receiving roses from other suitors and every time he spun, heat rushed to Yifan’s cheeks as his shorts rode up so high that he could almost see half a butt cheek.

“Yifan, come help me,” Yixing panted, holding out his hand.

His grip was firm around Yifan’s wrist as he rose up on pointe, his body wavering only for a moment before he steadied, a smile pasted on his face.

Yifan gulped, unable to stop his eyes from travelling downwards to Yixing’s perky butt as he walked around him, nearly falling over when he missed his point.

“Yifan, pay attention!” Yixing scowled when he was forced to drop back down onto his feet because of Yifan’s clumsiness.

“Sorry, sorry,” Yifan mumbled, snapping his eyes back to Yixing.

He drifted a little, watching how Yixing’s muscles thighs shivered when he released him, the dancer continuing to balance on his foot, once, twice and four times before going on with the rest of his routine.

“Hnngh,” Yixing moaned when they cooled down and Yifan could only curse every single star in the sky for choosing to stand behind him as he bent over, loosening the muscles in his legs.

His ass quivered as he bent lower, his shorts rising high enough for Yifan to almost see the curve of his cheeks.

They looked as if they would jiggle deliciously if hit and if the sliver of pale skin he saw was any indication, would turn a lovely shade of red too.

All the blood seemed to rush south as Yifan stretched, chewing hard on his lip as he casually slid his arms in front, so as if to hide the not so convenient boner in his pants.

Yixing was none the wiser, standing back upright to stretch his left leg behind him, in a lovely show of his flexibility that Yifan’s mouth-watering.

Jongdae was right, after all, Yixing _was_ the most provocative dancer in the academy.

Yifan could not ever remember being this turned on just by watching someone else dance.

It was becoming a recurring occurrence, his tights tightening in classes whenever Yixing was present to dance.

The man seemed determined to hurt him too, it seemed as whenever he was inadvertently picked out demonstrate a particular move, he would lift his legs or bend over just a tad too much, his eyes making contact with Yifan.

“You never know. He might be into you,” Jongdae commented as they exited a particularly gruelling class, all of them drenched in sweat.

“That’s ridiculous. I’m a bumbling idiot around him. He’s just being nice because we have to have some level of chemistry for the performance. He’s committed to his work, that’s all,” Yifan insisted, hip checking Jongdae out of the way so that he could steal his spot in front of the water fountain.

It was no use thinking of the impossible. Yixing was untouchable. He was the top of the class and Yifan was only lucky that he had been picked to work with him. 

Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, Yifan grinned when Jongdae yowled and proceeded to tip the rest of his half-filled bottle all over his front.

Perhaps he had been aiming for the face but Yifan was too tall for the water to reach that high.

Yifan was hardly perturbed.

He merely laughed, shaking his hair back, tugging at his wet shirt to unstick it from his body.

“Hi, Yifan.”

Yifan spun around to see Yixing standing in the middle of the hallway, flanked by Junmyeon and Baekhyun on either side.

His face heated up when Yixing’s eyes roved over his soaked shirt, particularly where his nipples were standing, peaked from the shock of cold water.

“You’re um-.” Junmyeon gestured, his cheeks flushed when Yixing elbowed him sharply, dropping his hands to his sides.

“Perhaps you ought to change, Yifan. Your chest is showing,” Yixing said serenely, though Yifan could detect a trace of _something_ in his tone _._

He shrugged, though his face was still hot. 

“I think it’ll be fine.”

It might have been his imagination but Yixing’s eyes darkened briefly before he nudged Junmyeon.

“Shall we go?” 

-

Yixing was hard to read even before they had become close but after they did, he seemed to have gotten worse.

His eyes flashed dark whenever Luhan draped himself over Yifan like he did as usual and Yifan was beginning to think that Jongdae’s suspicions had some ground.

Those beliefs were quickly proven right when Yixing began insisting on more private rehearsals, using the excuse that they had to practice.

Yifan did not mind, he could use the extra practice but Yixing seemed to have taken it upon himself to shake his already fragile self-control.

It did not take long before he snapped.

“Took you long enough,” Yixing breathed, tilting his head back to bare his throat.

The gesture was enough to make Yifan even harder in his pants.

“You’re the worst kind of tease,” he growled, running his hands along Yixing’s thighs, barely clothed in his signature black shorts.

They were in a random studio, during one of their private rehearsals when Yixing bent over a little more than usual, raising his leg onto the barre and his tiny, tiny ballet shorts rode up, exposing a large sliver of his butt cheek.

Yixing shivered, lips curling into a smirk that vanished when Yifan cupped him, right where his bulge was showing through the stretchy fabric.

“Fuck!” he gasped, fingers scrabbling at the barre.

“Yes. Fuck,” Yifan breathed, thumbing over where Yixing’s cock head was just to hear his breathing hitch.

“Nngh, please, Yifan. Don’t-.” Yixing arched back with a moan, Yifan barely saving him from hitting his head against the mirror with his hand.

“Don’t what? Don’t tease? But you’ve teased me so, Xing ah,” Yifan murmured, rubbing his palm over Yixing’s crotch. Yixing keened, eyes fluttering close.

“Didn’t mean to,” he gritted out, his legs inadvertently spreading wider to accommodate Yifan between them.

“Really?” Yifan purred, blowing hot air across Yixing’s neck. “Didn’t seem like it to me.”

Yixing whimpered when he cupped him hard, squeezing him through the fabric of his shorts.

Already, Yifan could see wetness spreading, a little patch on his ballet shorts. He smirked, rubbing his thumb delicately over the patch.

Yixing’s breathing quickened, his eyes blown wide with lust.

“Please, Yifan,” he begged, hips rutting against Yifan’s hand.

“I suppose everyone was right,” Yifan mused, still stroking Yixing leisurely. He plucked at the waistband of Yixing’s shorts, grinning when it snapped back against the white skin, Yixing releasing a tortured gasp. “You are a wolf in a sheep’s clothing.”

Yixing let out a muffled cry when Yifan slid his fingers under the waistband of his shorts, running his hand over his swollen length.

“Hhngh, Yifan please!” he gasped, his hips bucking. 

“Hush or someone will hear you,” Yifan said, clapping a hand over Yixing’s mouth. He did not miss how Yixing’s cock twitched at the statement.

His lips curled as he filed the information away for later.

“You liked that thought, you dirty boy,” he murmured, revelling in the flush that spread all over Yixing’s face, even the tips of his ears burning red.

“Pl- please,” Yixing gasped, whimpering when Yifan fondled his balls, thumbing at his taint. His shirt was soaked with sweat and almost see-through, his nipples peaked.

Curiously, Yifan flicked his left nipple with his free hand.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Yixing moaned, his back bowing back, his hair sticking against the mirror as he gripped the barre. 

“What is it? What do you want?” Yifan taunted as Yixing keened again, struggling for leverage as his hips jerked and twitched, stroking up and down his length.

“Please- Yifan!” Yixing shrieked when Yifan dug a nail into his slit, sweat dripping down his face and neck.

“You have to tell me, sweetheart. Tell what dirty things you want me to do to you. Use your words.”

It was almost cruel, the way he had Yixing quite literally, in the palm of his hand. Yixing was panting, heaving as he struggled towards an orgasm that Yifan held over his head, squeezing him whenever he got close.

“Yifan, please! Please just let me-!” Yixing moaned, shuddering when Yifan bent over him, catching his lips.

“Let you what? Bend over and cum like like a whore? Or maybe you’d like me to bend you over and spank you? Watch that delicious ass jiggle as I paint it red with my hand?”

Yixing keened, his eyes squeezing shut as Yifan sped up his strokes, his thrusts sloppy.

“Maybe I’d make you stand in first position and hold it while I mark you up. Would you like that?” Yifan growled, thumbing over the head of Yixing’s cock once more.

Yixing’s eyes flew open, his cheeks flushed red at the dirty talk.

“Yes- yes, please! I’m so- so close! Nnngh!” He dropped his head back, moaning so loudly that Yifan was half afraid that someone would come knocking.

White cum splashed all over his hand and onto Yixing’s shirt and shorts, creating a massive stain on the black fabric.

Yixing sagged, Yifan barely able to catch him just in time.

“I don’t think I can walk,” he admitted and Yifan laughed out loud.

“I haven’t even fucked you yet,” he murmured, relishing Yixing’s shiver as he blew a puff of air against his neck. “If a hand job can get you like this, how will you survive that?”

“What, you don’t think I can handle you?” Yixing asked, eyes challenging.

Yifan shrugged, a corner of his lips lifting. He wrapped a big hand around Yixing’s waist, carefully straightening him.

“Come on now. We need to go before we are caught.”

They were very lucky to have left when they did. 

The academy was empty and Yixing did not have to walk far to reach a bathroom.

“Come over to my room,” Yifan murmured when Yixing slipped out of the bathroom, dressed in another set of his obscenely short shorts.

He wrapped a big hand around Yixing’s thigh, crowding him up against the sink. 

Yixing huffed at him, one hand pressed against his chest and the other curled around the edge of the marble counter.

“You think I’m just going to go with you?” 

Yifan smirked.

Fast forward twenty minutes later, Yixing was pinned against the door to Yifan’s dorm, his chest heaving as Yifan fumbled to get the door open.

“Fuck, stop distracting me,” Yifan gasped when Yixing palmed at his crotch, shoving his key into the keyhole and turning it roughly.

“I want you,” Yixing murmured, his eyes blown wide with lust.

Yifan cursed under his breath. Turning the knob, he shoved the door open, catching Yixing before he could fall.

“Nice place,” Yixing panted, tripping backwards onto the tiny couch. Yifan curled his fingers into his shirt, yanking him upright into a heated kiss.

“You didn’t even look at it,” Yifan muttered against his lips, smiling when Yixing huffed out a laugh, tugging him even closer with fingers around his hips.

Somehow, they fumbled their way into the bedroom, Yixing tugging off his shirt the moment they crossed the threshold.

He tossed it aside, taking Yifan’s breath away with it.

Fuck.

He had known Yixing was muscled, toned. They all had to be, as dancers but wow.

“Like what you see?” Yixing breathed huskily, reaching out to fist his shirt.

Yifan yanked him in for another kiss, gasping when Yixing’s fingers sneaked under his shirt, pressing hot against his skin.

“Fuck!” he swore. The room was getting hotter, unbearably so.

Yifan pulled off his shirt, throwing it aside before pushing Yixing back. 

Yixing laughed when the backs of his knees collided with the edge of the bed, causing him to fall back onto the mattress.

He caught Yifan’s wrist, yanking him down with him.

“How do you want this?” Yifan asked, sliding his hand down the back of Yixing’s shorts.

He revelled in the other man’s shudder when he cupped his ass, giving it a squeeze.

“Give me all you’ve got,” Yixing breathed, reaching out to palm Yifan through his pants.

Yifan moaned, curling his fingers into the waistband of Yixing’s shorts. He yanked them down in one fluid motion, smirking when Yixing whimpered.

“You like that.” 

He grinned when Yixing’s pupils dilated, reaching to press the heel of his palm into the bulge in Yixing’s boxers.

“I should make you cream your pants again, no? You looked so delightful doing it in the studio.” 

“Hnngh,” was the only answer Yixing could formulate in response as his back arched, his hips working towards Yifan’s hand.

Yifan dipped his head, pressing his mouth against Yixing’s nipple, continuing to massage over his bulge to hear him pant and gasp beneath.

“Enough!” Yixing gasped, grasping his wrist. “I want you in me.”

Yifan flicked his tongue over Yixing’s swollen nipple and smirked when he whined, grappling at his wrists.

“If you’re sure,” he answered, pulling away to tug off his tights.

He did not know it was possible but Yixing’s pupils dilating further did wonders for his ego.

“Fuck, you’re big,” Yixing breathed, dropping back against the mattress.

“Still want it?” Yifan asked, reaching out. He stroked a lock of Yixing’s hair behind his ear and Yixing leaned into his touch like a cat.

“Hell yes.” 

Yifan grinned, leaning over Yixing to pull open the bedside drawer.

“Then take off your clothes.”

-

“Ahh- Yifan!” Yixing arched, hands fisting in the sheets so hard that Yifan was half afraid he might tear them.

He spread his fingers, scissoring him open, deliberately avoiding his prostate.

“Fan- ah! Please!” Yixing cried, hips jerking helplessly. He squealed when Yifan twisted his hand, tossing his head back into the pillows.

His hair was matted and damp and his skin glistened with sweat.

“Just a little longer,” Yifan assured him, stroking along his sensitive inner thigh. Yixing whined high in his throat, squirming until he had to press a hand against his hips to keep him still.

“I want you now!” Yixing cried petulantly, his hole twitching when Yifan pulled out his fingers, moving to drip lube over his cock instead.

“And you will have me, impatient little brat,” Yifan murmured, lining himself up. His lube slicked fingers found Yixing’s shoulders and he grunted as he pushed in, Yixing’s soft whimpers turning into low moans of pleasure.

“You’re so big,” Yixing gasped and Yifan leaned down to kiss him.

“And you like it big?” Yifan asked, mouthing at his plump bottom lip. He nibbled at it before Yixing could answer, rocking himself gently against him.

“I do now,” Yixing moaned when Yifan reached down between them to fondle his balls, squeezing roughly.

He scratched lines down Yifan’s back, the sharp stinging pain mingling with the pleasure Yifan felt from thrusting into his tight hole. Yifan pinned him down with one hand on his shoulder, the other wrapped around his swollen cock, stroking him as best as he could while thrusting into him.

“Nngh- Yifan- Yifan!” Yifan revelled in having rendered Yixing into an incoherent mess, starkly contrasted against the perfectly put together dancer he saw in the studio.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed into the room, broken only by Yixing’s helpless whines and Yifan’s occasional grunt.

“Oh-ohh!” Yixing’s whines tapered into a high pitch cry, his body spasming suddenly beneath Yifan and it was enough for Yifan to know that he had found his prostate. He closed his fingers around Yixing’s shoulders, growling lowly under his breath before fucking into Yixing with renewed determination to make him cum.

Yixing clenched tight around him, a loud moan pulling out of his throat and Yifan swore, bending to press his mouth against Yixing’s collarbone. 

His teeth dug into white skin and it was all very satisfying to hear Yixing gasp, nails scratching down his back as he continued to fuck into him.

“Fuck-ah! Yifan, harder!” Yixing squealed when Yifan moved one hand to flick at his nipple, writhing helplessly.

“You like that?” Yifan taunted as he rubbed at the poor bud until it was red and pebbly before dipping down to mouth at it, scraping his teeth over the peak. “You like your nipples being played with?”

Yixing keened, squirming and writhing as if torn between moving away or towards the torture. Yifan sucked a dark mark over the nipple flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud to hear Yixing shriek before pulling away, turning his attention to the other one. 

When Yixing had two matching love bites over his nipples, Yifan pulled away. 

“Hnngh- fuck I’m close!” Yixing gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets, his chest heaving as Yifan fucked into him. 

He made the most gorgeous sight Yifan had ever seen, naked and writhing, skin glistening with sweat. There was a pool of precum smeared all over his stomach as he twisted in the sheets, his back bowed.

“You want to cum? You want to cum again after cumming once into the studio?” Yifan growled, trailing his finger over the crown of Yixing’s swollen cock. “I haven’t even cum once.”

“Yes- yes, Yifan, please!” Yixing gasped when he curled his hand around the base of his cock, squeezing hard enough for him to let out a pitched cry. 

“Can you hold on? Hold on till I’ve cum?” Yifan asked, pressing his thumb along his taint. Yixing made a garbled sound and he squeezed again, the other’s eyes widening. “I need to hear you say it, love.”

“Yes- yes! Please hurry!” 

Yifan smiled, tucking his face into the crook of Yixing’s neck. His own pleasure was near, pooling in the pit of his stomach as he fucked into Yixing’s tight, wet heat. He grunted, his hips stuttering when his orgasm crashed into him, pleasure sweeping through his body like a tidal wave.

His arms shook from the effort it took for him to not just completely collapse onto Yixing as he pulled out, rolling over so as not to crush him. 

Yixing moaned at the emptiness, his hole fluttering. His eyes were wide and pleading as Yifan turned over, wrapping a hand around his cock. 

“Good boy,” he praised, Yixing releasing a pitched cry when he finally came, spilling white all over Yifan’s hand and his belly.

Yixing was curled up onto his side by the time Yifan reappeared from the shower, with only a towel covering his nether regions, half asleep.

“How are you feeling?” Yifan asked, settling down beside him. Yixing turned over, lips curled into a smile that made Yifan’s heart flutter when he reached up to kiss him. 

“Good,” he murmured sweetly, his arms looping around Yifan’s neck. Yifan smiled too, trailing a hand along his side. 

“Well we have practice tomorrow so you’d better get going,” he said, nudging him before crawling under the covers, his towel slipping off onto the floor.

Yixing’s smile slid off his face.

“Get going?”

The incredulity in his tone made Yifan look up in surprise. 

“Yeah, didn’t you want to get home? It’s getting late.”

He could not decipher the look on Yixing’s face, a mix between hurt and confusion and quiet anger. 

“I- yes. I should get going. Good night, Yifan.”

The door slammed so hard behind him that Yifan jolted. He had a distinct feeling that he had done something very wrong. 

-

“You’re a fucking callous bastard,” Baekhyun snapped at him the next day at lunch. They were seated together, Junmyeon with Baekhyun in his lap and Jongdae close by. Yixing was nowhere to be found. 

Even the usually quiet Junmyeon seemed pissed, though he was not quite as outright as Baekhyun was.

“You really hurt him,” Junmyeon said stiffly, running his hands up and down Baekhyun’s sides as if that would calm his fired up boyfriend. 

“Yeah, hyung. You fucked up big time,” Jongdae said, uncharacteristically. He was leaning into Junmyeon’s space and Yifan could see the faintest circle of a bruise peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. 

“What am I supposed to have done?” Yifan asked as he speared a piece of chicken on his fork, blinking in confusion. 

“You hurt Yixing’s feelings.”

“I- did?” 

“I told you he was an idiot,” Jongdae said, rolling his eyes and automatically, Yifan reached out to whack him. But he was distracted by what Jongdae said.

“How did I hurt his feelings?” 

There was a sinking feeling in his stomach even as he asked the question, thinking of the look in Yixing’s eyes the night before.

“You kicked him out after you had sex. Really, hyung? Anyone with eyes could tell that he was really into you. Now he thinks you just wanted him for sex,” Jongdae snorted

“He what? No!” Yifan shot up, forgetting that his knees were tucked under the table. He swore when he slammed into the tabletop, a sharp pain immediately piercing through his knees.

That would certainly bruise for weeks. His milk had spilt all over the table and it was only Junmyeon’s quick reflexes that had saved his and Baekhyun’s lunch. 

“I- I have to go,” Yifan stuttered when heads turned to see what the commotion was about. 

He dropped his fork onto the table and grabbed his bag, bolting out of the room.

Yixing was not a difficult person to find, even as Yifan ran from studio to studio, certain that the dancer would be in one of them, practising his heart out. 

He found him in the studio that they had first met as partners, dancing the Rose Adagio on his own, the music blasting out of the speakers. 

Yifan was mesmerized as he watched him dance, really dance as if no one was watching.

But it was all wrong. 

The dance was supposed to be joyful, effervescent as if he was a sixteen-year-old boy on his birthday night but the way he danced, there was a touch of sorrow in it, none of the brilliance Yifan had witnessed when he first watched him dance.

Yifan’s heart dropped. 

Swallowing, he pushed open the studio door, Yixing too distracted to hear him come in. 

His eyes widened when he saw him in the mirror however, hand outstretched as if to pluck the rose from an invisible suitor’s hand.

Yifan rushed forward just as he began to fall from his position on pointe, his balance upset, catching him around the waist.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. Yixing stared up at him with wide, surprised eyes, before straightening, his body tensing. 

“For?”

“For startling you. And distracting you. And- and last night. I didn’t think,” Yifan admitted, releasing him. 

Yixing’s lips pressed into a thin line and he folded his arms over his chest, looking so guarded that Yifan’s heart sank. 

“I don’t just want sex,” he said sharply. “I’m not a slut or a toy. I teased you because I wanted you. _All_ of you.”

“I know. I just- I was stupid, Yixing. I didn’t think someone like you could ever want someone like me.” Yifan inhaled deeply, sticking his hands into his pockets. 

Of course, he had noticed the way Yixing looked at him in class. Or the simmering tension between them every time they danced together, electricity palpable between them. But he had assumed, wrongly, that it was just sexual, that Yixing could never feel the way he felt, secretly deep inside. 

“You’re an idiot.” The ice in Yixing’s tone made Yifan cringe and he had never wanted to melt into the floor as much as he did then.

“I know.”

“And you fucked up.”

“I did,” Yifan mumbled, dropping his head in shame. He was almost prepared for Yixing to pack his bags and leave, by the sound of it. 

A hand on his bicep startled him and he looked up to see Yixing standing before him. His gaze was still stony but it had softened somewhat.

“Will you screw things up again?”

Yifan looked into Yixing’s eyes and swallowed.

“I don’t want to but knowing me, I might.”

A laugh. 

That was a good sign. 

His chest warmed a little, pleased. If he could make Yixing laugh, perhaps they could stay friends. 

Yixing tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear and leaned up, surprising Yifan with a tender kiss, with no heat behind it at all. 

“You’re a wonderful guy, YIfan,” Yixing murmured when he looked at him in shock, thumbing over his cheekbone. “But I think you need to have a little more confidence in yourself. I’ll see you around.”

Thus began Yifan’s wooing spree. 

Yixing was a pleasure to work with and he was easy to please, outside of the dance studio. Even though Jongdae insisted that Yifan was a dunce and that Yixing was going easy on him, Yifan was glad that he had a second chance.

He walked Yixing to his classes whenever he could, brought him his favourite food for lunch and occasionally, flowers.

Yixing revelled in the attention and Yifan found that he enjoyed lavishing such attention too. 

The days flew by as they worked and danced and wooed, Yixing just that little bit out of reach but Yifan enjoyed the chase nonetheless, relishing the times when Yixing let his hand linger around his a little too long.

Their chemistry improved greatly, much to Jungsu’s delight and relief as the show was coming ever closer, with every day that passed. 

Yixing sewed more and more shoes and they stayed in the studio later and later each day, even after Jungsu and Ryeowook had gone home, practising their dances both as a soloist and as partners. 

Weeks flew past and all too soon, it was opening night. 

Yifan found himself unusually restless even as he drew his eyeliner. His hand shook and he had to put down the pencil before he messed up his foundation. 

“Hey.” Yixing’s head popped around the door to his dressing room and Yifan’s breath left his lungs.

“You look lovely,” he said, breathlessly and Yixing stopped, a soft pink dusting his cheeks. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, taking a few shy steps. Yifan rose out of his chair, moving just as Yixing reached out for a hug, wrapping his arms around him. 

“You’re going to do great out there.”

“So will you,” Yifan replied, kissing Yixing’s cheek gently so as not to disturb his makeup. 

“We’ll talk after the show.” Yixing sent him a meaningful glance that had Yifan’s blood humming in his bloodstream. He rose onto his tiptoes, pressing his lips against Yifan’s cheekbone. “Good luck!”

The show passed in a blur, Yifan so sunken into his character that he remembered almost none of it, only the steps embedded in his muscle memory. Even when his legs were sore and screaming, the adrenaline carried him through, sweeping him away with the music.

It was like waking up after a long sleep when they came to the end, YIfan’s lips pressing chastely against Yixing’s to end the spell the wicked Carabosse had laid upon the prince.

The backstage was a mess and it was easy enough to slip away amidst all the confusion, Yixing’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, tugging him out of the fray and into an empty dressing room. 

Yixing’s eyes were bright and his pulse beat fast against Yifan’s chest when he was yanked in close, adrenaline still rushing through his body. Lips collided against his and Yifan found himself with an armful of hot and sweater dancer. Yixing’s chest was heaving against his as he kissed back passionately, fingers curling around his waist. 

“Take me home, Yifan,” Yixing breathed, tucking his head into the crook of Yifan’s neck when they pulled apart, both breathing heavily. 

“What- are- are you sure?” Yifan gasped. 

“Yes,” he murmured and Yifan’s breath was snatched away when he stretched up to kiss him again.

“We should probably tell- okay!” Yifan yelped when he was tugged forward roughly, the door to the dressing room yanked open. 

It was a flurry of motion and a miracle that they ended up in Yifan’s apartment in one piece. 

“I want you, Yifan. Please,” Yixing murmured into his ear and who was Yifan to refuse him?

“Tell me how you want this,” he said even as he backed Yixing into the bedroom wall, fingers tugging at the shirt that Yixing had haphazardly put on after shedding his costume backstage. 

Yixing bared his throat to him, Yifan’s heart skipping a beat at the display of white skin. 

“Make me yours,” Yixing groaned. 

Yifan pressed his lips against the pale column, digging his teeth into Yixing’s skin. He sucked hard, revelling in Yixing’s choked off cry of his name as his fingers slid lower, into the pockets of Yixing’s sweatpants. 

Pale nude coloured ribbons came trailing out at his touch, his lips curling into a smirk when he looked back into Yixing’s eyes to see them dilated with pleasure.

“Hold them out,” he said, injecting authority into his tone and Yixing obeyed, shivering. His hair flopped into his eyes and he made for a wonderful sight when Yifan pushed him onto the bed, his wrists bound. 

“Hnngh, Yifan!” Yixing moaned when he shoved his shirt as far up as they would go, exposing his pink nipples. Yifan dipped his head, swirling his tongue lazily in his belly button before moving higher, mouthing at the already peaked buds.

Yixing writhed as he lavished them with attention, sucking purpling marks into the skin, the light glinting off the wetness of the saliva. 

“You get off on this huh? Me tying you up? How long have you planned this? While I was wooing you?” Yifan asked, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Yixing’s sweatpants to yank them down along with his boxers. 

Yixing moaned when his erection sprang free, already hard and leaking. Yifan swiped a thumb around the crown of his cock, smirking when Yixing bucked, his hands twitching against the ribbons. 

“Yes- yes, please!”

He dripped lube over his fingers, pushing Yixing’s legs further apart until he could see his hole. Yifan traced his fingers around the rim once, just to hear Yixing whine before pushing in, surprised at how easily he sank in.

“Did you do this yourself? Fingered yourself open?” he asked and Yixing moaned in affirmation.

“Yesterday. Thought of you,” the dancer gasped when Yifan moved, crooking his finger to press against his prostate. “Yifan, please don’t tease me.”

His wrists worked against the ribbons and he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing when Yifan added a second and third finger without much preamble, low moans spilling from his throat.

“Eager.” Yifan withdrew his fingers, tugging off his own pants and shirt. 

It was filthy, Yixing technically still clothed in his shirt as he pushed inside, the other man writhing and squirming.

“You look lovely,” Yifan murmured into Yixing’s ear when he was fully sheathed inside, Yixing’s velvety walls clenching around him. He flicked his nipple and Yixing squealed, his back arching.

Yifan let out a low groan when Yixing clenched, snapping his hips forward hard enough for Yixing to scrabble for purchase, his bound hands grasping at him helplessly. 

He made a very pretty picture, as Yifan rocked into him, a litany of curses spilling from his lips. 

“Fuck-ah! Right there!” Yifan tightened his grip on Yixing’s shoulders, bucking his hips forward to set up a punishing rhythm, Yixing shuddering beneath him. 

“More? You want more? You’re so greedy,” he murmured, Yixing’s choked off moans music to his ears. 

“Kiss me, you bastard,” Yixing groaned, his hands twitching. Yifan obeyed, sinking his teeth down into his plush bottom lip just to hear him cry out and writhe, his lips parting for him to press his tongue into his mouth.

He thumbed at Yixing’s nipples again, determined to make Yixing cum first this time. Yixing squealed and his bound hands batted uselessly when Yifan tweaked his already sore and red nipples. He threw back his head and gasped.

“Fuck- I think- I’m close!”

Yifan redoubled his efforts, his rhythm becoming sloppy as he thrust into him. Yixing arched, his cries pitching higher and higher until he was finally spilling, white splashing all over Yifan’s belly and onto himself.

Yifan milked him through it, slowly rocking him through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He came with a quiet groan, dipping his head into the crook of Yixing’s neck as he shot his cum into him. 

“We probably should have used a condom,” Yixing murmured weakly. Yifan blinked, grimacing when he pulled out. 

“Yeah,” he replied, wrinkling his nose at the mess that came trickling out of Yixing. “Probably.”

Despite the heaviness in his limbs that were practically demanding him to lie down beside Yixing and fall asleep, he managed to drag himself to the bathroom and wet a towel with warm water.

Yixing had rolled onto his side when he returned and was tugging at his ribbon bondage uselessly.

“I’ll help you. Just give me a moment,” Yifan said, gently spreading his legs so that he could wipe up the mess that was drying on his thighs. Yixing whimpered when he mopped at his hole, twitching away at the oversensitivity. 

Yifan tossed the towel aside once all the mess had been wiped away, crawling into the bed next to Yixing to untie his hands. 

“Thank you,” Yixing murmured when Yifan curled up next to him, one arm draping around his waist to tug him closer to his chest.

“It’s nothing,” Yifan replied, leaning down to press a kiss against his forehead. 

He smiled to himself as Yixing’s breathing evened, the other man falling asleep in his arms.

If you had told him six weeks ago that he would be lying in bed with the academy’s most provocative dancer in his arms, fast asleep after a wild night, he would have laughed in your face.

Now, Yifan scooted a little lower down the bed, dropping another kiss onto Yixing’s nose. Warmth flooded his chest when Yixing snuffled, one eye popping open to glare before he snuggled back into his embrace, falling back into to dreamland. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am now opening commissions! If you enjoy my work, please consider commissioning me, or leaving me a Ko-fi! I’m a broke student just beginning university so any little bit of money is very appreciated! Details can be found here on my [carrd](https://t.co/yJF8RA57N3?amp=1). Thank you for supporting my work!


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